Ilona Andrews - On the Edge

“Because of Declan, of course. The whole mess with Casshorn nearly brought me to an early grave. I realize we won, but would you mind filling in the details?”

Rose bit her lip. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

The woman smiled. “I know most of the story: Casshorn had stolen a device from the Duke of the Southern Provinces that feeds on magic and makes hounds. He took it across the country into the Edge. Declan left to retrieve it and save William, who managed to entangle himself in this mess. So how did it end?”

“Declan was flashing and Rose almost died, because she flashed to kill Casshorn and she had no flash left, and then Declan flashed at Rose to save her,” Jack said.

“Jack!” Rose snapped.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Jack nodded. “Grandma said Rose’s mouth and her eyes were bleeding.”

George dug his elbow into Jack’s side. “Shut up.”

“I have to know the whole story now,” the woman said

“I’d rather not,” Rose said.

“Please, I insist.”

Twenty minutes and two walls later, she had the whole story, and Rose wasn’t quite sure how she’d gotten it.

“You really intend to make him wait a month to marry you?” The woman laughed softly.

“I want him to be sure.”

“Do you know how long the Duchess has been trying to marry him off? If she discovers he found a bride, you won’t escape.”

“I’m hoping to avoid the Duchess. I don’t know anything about manners, haircuts, or proper clothes, and I hope to learn a bit before we meet.” Rose hesitated. “Why would the Duchess care whether or not Declan is married? I mean, he’s a courtesy earl. I know the Duke seems to rely on him and he’s the Marshal, but I was hoping the Duchess wouldn’t take an interest.”

The woman stopped her roller. “Oh, dear.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Declan has this annoying habit. He doesn’t quite lie. Instead he allows people to arrive at the wrong conclusions and doesn’t bother to correct them.”

“You know him very well.” Rose smiled.

“Dear, in Adrianglia, nobles—they are called peers here—peers carry several titles. A duke might also be an earl or a baron. An heir can assume the rank of his sire only when his sire retires or dies. Until then, if the heir has completed his service and passed his examinations, he assumes the next best title in his bloodline. Declan is a courtesy peer, because although he completed his service, his sire is still alive. He is the son of the Duke and Duchess of the Southern Provinces.”

“Oh God.” Rose dropped the roller.

“Look on the bright side: you don’t have to worry about clothes, haircuts, or manners. If you marry Earl Camarine, you could prance into society in a potato sack and it would become the latest fashion.”

“So Casshorn was his uncle?” Rose asked. Maybe she misunderstood . . .

“Indeed. And he always hated Declan and Maud, his sister. You see, the mother of the current Duchess was born in the Broken. That’s why Declan can travel back and forth between the worlds. He is what you might call a mix. Casshorn never could stand the Duchess. Nobody quite knows why, and so he—”

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Declan’s voice called, “Mother?” He ducked into the doorway. “Mother, have you seen—”

He saw Rose and clamped his mouth shut.

“I’ve seen, and I approve!” the woman said brightly.

“Mother?” Rose stared at her.

The woman frowned. “I probably should have mentioned: that annoying habit of letting people come to the wrong conclusions and not correcting them? He got it from me.”

Declan’s face turned icy. “You just couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

“No, I couldn’t. But I absolutely love her,” the Duchess answered. “Don’t worry about the one-month requirement—it will take me that long to organize the wedding.”

Rose simply stared. An older version of Declan appeared in the doorway. “We’ve misplaced the bride . . . Oh, here you are.” He shouldered his way into the room.

An even older man followed. Gaunt and dressed in dark purple, he saw Rose and said, “Why, she is lovely.” He glanced at the boys. “Which of you is the necromancer?”

A young female voice yelled at the door, “Let me into the room! I’m his sister, damn it!”

Rose backed away, pressing against the freshly painted wall. They were too big, too loud, too full of magic. Jack hissed.

Declan stepped forward, pushed the double doors open, took her hand, and pulled her through onto a wide balcony.

“Did you see that?” the Duchess yelled. “He rescued her from us. This wedding is on!”

“Sorry. They’re just excited,” Declan told her, leading her to the end of the balcony.

“You lied to me again.”

“No, I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

She shook her head. “A duke?”

“Not for another twenty years or so.”

“God, your mother probably thinks I’m an idiot.”

“She likes you. She likes the kids, too. Rose, I’m still me. Does it really matter if I’m a duke or not? If I didn’t have a title, you would’ve married me already. Forget the castle. Forget my family.”

One of the older men leaned out of the doors. “I just want to see the triple arch,” he called. “Then I’ll leave you two alone!”

“I love you. Marry me,” Declan said.

His eyes were green like grass blades.

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him as the triple arch of her flash spun about them. In the doorway, the older man swore.

Declan grinned at her. She grinned back.

“Say yes,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “But not before the month is over.”